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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22569634">Fiat Lux</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QDesjardin/pseuds/QDesjardin'>QDesjardin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ergo Proxy (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:34:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,872</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22569634</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QDesjardin/pseuds/QDesjardin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In a lost dome, Lil and Vincent grow entrapped by a promise of unfathomable dreams..</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Vincent Law/Re-l Mayer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I use Lil instead of Re-L, even though the latter is the 'correct' spelling of her name, because it's the spelling I'm used to when first watching the show. Isn't Lillian a nicer name than "Real" anyways?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>Fiat Lux – </strong>by QDesjardin<br/>
<em>In a lost dome, Lil and Vincent grow entrapped by a promise of unfathomable dreams..</em></p><p>
  <strong>1</strong>
</p><p>The Rabbit courses on in the vast, abandoned desert – its sails collecting the air's radiation, the sky the colour of coffee with faint auroras. In the boat, while Lil re-dresses her hair juuust right in her quarters, Vincent tries out Pino's harmonica. He remembers a tune, a memory from when he was young, and it used to play on the radio all the time, but only musters a bare rendition.</p><p>"Awesome! Awesome!" Pino goes, clapping over Vincent's efforts. "Soon, you can be just as good as me.."</p><p>After growing bored, Vincent sighs, and leaves the harmonica over to Pino as he revisits the logs. The only interesting thing was this rock canyon, with swirling colours, and he's saved some of the shimmering stones as souvenirs; they scratch pretty easily, but the scratches reveal streaks of glowing energies. Is it some kind of radioactive rock?</p><p>Lil didn't seem too enthused, but she got the idea of sprinkling her hair with this subtle sheen – she always seems so absorbed with her looks, even when there's no one else around.</p><p>Then Vincent stops hearing the sound of Lil blow-drying her hair.. she steps out, her face, her <em>looks, </em>as if she's stepped out of a fashion cover. Her glossy lipstick especially, and Vincent has to hold in the urge to wolf whistle.</p><p>"Hmph, how do I look?" she goes, as she twirls her body around to showcase.</p><p>"You look.. fine.." Vincent approaches her, and he spots her collar, not folded out quite right, so he reaches for her neck and puts it out.</p><p>"Fine?" Lil smiles, a soft blush showing on her cheeks. "You must be flabbergasted. Don't be so shy, being modest with your feelings like that - we're stuck together for God knows how long, so I figure it's better to be more honest with one another."</p><p>Should Vincent go ahead on her offer? It would seem too forthcoming if he spews out how his heart still pounds for her, whenever he has the chance of being around her. So he shrugs it off, saying, "Hehe, it's nothing much."</p><p>"You sure? Well, it's entirely up to you."</p><p>Then – the rabbit's sensors are heard going off; and Lil and Vincent head up to the deck to see, from the horizons, a glowing dome. It's so strangely apprehensive, and yet exciting all the while – you have no idea what to expect, as each dome housed a world made in the visage of their respective Proxies, one world as different from another.</p><p>But they need supplies. Food, cosmetics, maintenance parts..</p><p>/</p><p>The rusted, metal placard by the airlock reads "Zaporizhzhia," with a listing of its founding colonizers. Pino waddles by Vincent's waist, as Lil attaches her tricorder to the airlock's maintenance jack – basically tricking the door to open sesame for a bunch of strangers. The process is simple, as Lil concentrates on the petit windows of the tricorder's screen, and then, with several heavy <strong>thunks</strong>, the door recedes away.</p><p>The inner chambers bear little welcome, with no personnel or security, but Lil has some familiarity with the layout and she leads the party over, from the labyrithine corridors of piping and catwalks, over to the subway stations where, below the laid tracks and cars, the deep machinery still clacks below into an abyss.</p><p>"Vincento..!" Pino gasps, her raised arm directing at what at first looks like piles of silk, bundled in the corner.</p><p>"Pino, what's the fuss?" Lil goes. She has her shotgun readied; one cartridge for normal enemies, the other filled with UV radiation for Proxies. And as she draws closer, she begins to realise the silk piles conceal within them bodies. Some piles having petite tarantulas, weaving out and in as they systematically latch onto the protruding veins with the tendrils – apparently draining the bodies of their vitality.</p><p>Some bodies still shiver with the barest signs of sentience.</p><p>Lil kneels down, holding her tricorder to scan the bodies. The spiderlings are synthetic, and apparently, the bodies are held in some kind of medical <em>stasis, </em>keeping them alive but in a comatose state. But why?</p><p>Vincent feels an electric nervousness, gnawing, permeating his being. It's the same feeling when he's within another proxy's influence. <em>Did a proxy do this..?</em></p><p>"I'm scared.." Pino goes, tugging at Vincent's arm. "Let's go back to the Rabbit.."</p><p>"Not without the supplies. We'll be careful; keep a lookout for anything useful or dangerous Pino." Vincent gives a thumbs-up, and it makes Pino skip with glee.</p><p>They're on a platform overhanging the floating tracks – one of the cabooses is alit, with a shadow of a figure projecting onto the windows, so Lil takes a step inside, and the smell of warm, lush vanilla surprises her – the air inside feels warmer and lived-in, as opposed to the oppressing unlife outside.</p><p>Behind the velvet curtains, the flickering of candlelight. Lil brushes the curtains aside, and finds a figure in a wreathed cloak – a mechanical skeleton, its dull skull bearing remnants of muscle and skin. It's huddled over the stove, boiling a kettle, the steam billowing into nothingness with the air.</p><p>"Oh, I was waiting for you, <em>ma cherie..</em>" The voice is regal, yet synthesized. The figure puts up the kettle and pours the steamy water into the two cups, sitting upon the silver tray. When it gathers the tray and turns around, you see its eyes, the irises green, bloodshot, distinctly human.</p><p>Vincent has trailed in after Lil, and he is disarmed by the homely atmosphere. His feeling of being on edge goes away, and the skeleton sets the tray upon a small table.</p><p>"Come, sit, you must be cold.."</p><p>Lil does so hesitantly – and when was the last time she had sat down, feeling like a little princess? Not since she was a child. She gets herself cozy on the stool.</p><p>"Who are you?<em>" </em>she asks.<em> "What </em>are you? I've never seen an autoreiv like you before."</p><p>"I am no autoreiv!" it snaps. "I am <em>Madame Argounova</em> – and I manage my new home here, while the world goes on decaying. You two are new faces. But I know a starving face when I see one."</p><p>"We just need supplies," Vincent goes.</p><p>"And only supplies? You're not thinking of leaving so soon?" If Argounova has a mouth, her lips would be furled up in consternation, but instead, you get a forlorn glance from the eyes, like she's been alone for so long, and wants company..</p><p>Pino wanders in, and she waddles over to the table.</p><p>"I wasn't expecting a third – your child?"</p><p>And Lil realises – <em>she's tapped into the dome's life sensors! That's how she knew we were coming! Pino's an autoreiv, so she wouldn't register..</em></p><p>"She's our adopted daughter," Lil improvises on the spot, glancing at Vincent to play along with the ruse.</p><p>"Yeah. Pino, say hi to the lady, be nice!"</p><p>Pino smiles. "Hallo! How do you do?" She gives a courteous bow – having been made to serve the needs of an aristocratic family.</p><p>"She's so well-mannered!" Argounova glees. "Oh, you must be a wonderful <em>family,</em> and in this day and age, it's something to be proud of."</p><p>Even though it's not really true, Vincent blushes over the idea of having Lil as his wife-to-be, and with Pino to look after. He lets out a sigh, and glances at Lil dreamily with that thought in mind. Beneath her hard exterior, a warm, beating heart that is asking to be tamed.</p><p>"We're archeologists," Lil goes, "on our way to a scavange site. But we ran short of food and fuel as raiders hit us and demanded sustenance. Please – help us."</p><p>"So I understand.." Argounova's fingers are bony joints, snapping to and fro, and Lil senses she is up to no goodly. Lil hasn't even touched her cup, while Vincent has sipped the mocha, finding it so delectable and refreshing.</p><p>"We can afford to stay here a bit," Vincent says, his cheeks blushing red, with his head wavering, and Argounova seeming to nod along.</p><p>"Vincent..!" Lil sees that his eyes have dilated, and imagines that the drink is spiked. <em>You damn fool, thinking you can make yourself at home in a strange place.</em> She readies her shotgun up, and Argounova nabs the barrel of Lil's weapon with shocking reflex.</p><p>Lil struggles with the skeleton over her gun, losing the tug-of-war as she feels her gun slipping away from her grasp.. she lets go of it, and tries pulling out her pistol instead. She is able to squeeze out a single shot, right into Argounova's gut, which explodes in a geyser of gel.</p><p>Pino screams – she finds a cupboard to hide herself in.</p><p>Argounova reels from the blow. As Lil prepares to fire another shot, the skeletal being whacks her with the shotgun's butt, clattering Lil to the floor, where she trembles from her trauma.</p><p>Then, Argounova inspects Vincent, who seems doe-eyed, oddly complacent to the sudden event – his head in the clouds, so to speak. Instead, he munches on the brownies on the table, as if he's just realised how hungry he's always been.</p><p>He wolfs down the chocolatey goodness, left and right. Even when the windows don't show the station anymore, but a dark tunnel, full of orange lights – before emerging out into the paradisum of a soft, hazy spring, where a lake shimmers beneath the grey skies and the children come out to swim.</p><p>And then, Vincent is no longer in his orange jumpsuit, but in a casual T-shirt and jeans. The table full of goodies is gone.</p><p>He's sitting on a couch, where the TV blares out a commercial for new, discounted furniture – look at that upholstery on that chair! And it's dirt cheap! He feels at ease, having started a vacation.</p><p>He wanders around the home, everything looking new, yet feeling so familiar. The flowery pattern on the walls, the hardwood floor, and how he has to press hard on the door handle to get into the bedroom.</p><p>Just a single bed. He has no one <em>yet </em>to live with.</p><p>/</p><p>Vincent descends the apartment stairway, where there are clothes hung from the windowsill to the building across. A woman, humming a folk tune; it's the sweetest he's ever heard. And he emerges outside, where the white blossoms tumble down to the checkerboard pavement - a dancing snow which never melts –</p><p>A residential neighbourhood, peaceful and ornate, where the streets seem crafted from a time when architects had placed delicate care into the aesthetics. Vincent is walking, as a way of mulling over the uncanny feeling of his memories, but also to soak in the atmosphere of this place he ought to call <em>home.</em></p><p>He finds a cafe, where people are lively chatting, some using the gambling mini-casinos and others who are zoned into the soap opera playing on the petite TV. <em>I could sure use a wake-up drink.</em></p><p>So Vincent stops by, and has the urge to ask for a <em>cafe con leche</em>, with extra cream..</p><p>The cafe's tender is an old, spritzy man, with the eyebrows suggesting years of hardy experience, and he says: "Aahhh, Vincenzo.. I'm betting on you – you got that big poker game coming up.. you've always came out as the winner, and I'm sure you won't let me down!"</p><p>Vincent blinks. Then he recalls a sense of having picked up, shuffled and even counted cards. "What poker game?"</p><p>"Don't tell me you've suddenly got amnesia now! You're our local champion – and you're about to win the regional championship!"</p><p>The bartender winks, as he serves Vincent his cup of coffee. It's frothy, and it goes down smooth – Vincent asks for a brownie, and the bartender happily obliges.</p><p>And then on the TV.. it's a commercial break, advertising for women's hair shampoo. Vincent catches gaze of the ad, it's showing how she's brushing her gorgeously jet-black hair. <em>Non, it couldn't be..</em> she has no eye-liner though, but her glaring, discriminating eyes say all.</p><p>
  <em>"Revlon hair products. Because you're totally worth it!"</em>
</p><p>She's so familiar, somehow. Vincent tries putting a name to her face, but doesn't manage to. Still, he is haunted enough by her image, and he tries asking the other patrons if they know the chick on the ad. None of them do, but there's an ad agency in town he could consult with..</p><p>/</p><p>The agency is a sleek building, overlooking the lake. Vincent gets off the omnicab, and by the reception area, which is packed with applicants, he pays the receptionist (who's on the phone) a visit.</p><p>"Are you looking to apply for our next ad?" she goes.</p><p>Vincent looks around, and he finds everyone's eyes <em>on him</em>, murmuring – the champion poker player, seeking to advertise? How unfair! But he focuses his mind back on what he's here for. "I'm looking for the woman who was in the hair commercial.."</p><p>"Which 'hair commercial'? We've got several out in the air – you mean for our blow-drying product?"</p><p>Vincent is stumped. He tries recalling from memory; what was it, Revlon? Revlon hair!</p><p>"Revlon shampoo," he goes. "It has a woman, jet-black hair.."</p><p>"A lot of our shampoo ads have jet-black hair models.. but if you're talking about the one that's airing now – I can give her your number to reach you by. Won't promise you anything; you're Vincent Law, right? The card player?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"Just press your thumbprint here.."</p><p>The receptionist offers him a flat panel, which Vincent presses his thumb upon and she gives him a thumbs-up sign.</p><p>"What's her name?" Vincent asks. "So I know what to call her.."</p><p>"Lillian Mayer. But she prefers Lil in short."</p><p>/</p><p>When Vincent arrives back at his apartment, he searches the drawers, the boxes, for a deck of cards, and he stumbles upon an ornate deck box that's sitting on the TV. He pulls the deck out, it slips into his hands, he feels how each card has a rough texture that lets his fingers get a fine grip, and then on the living room's table, he tries shuffling the entire cards – with surprising dexterity, and then lays out the cards in a 4-player fashion..</p><p>At the back of his mind though, he cannot shake off the feeling that he's living up someone else's dream. He didn't know about his card skills or that he has an upcoming tournament until other people told him.. but what else is there? Trying to recall anything else about himself is a haze, like imagining the day after tomorrow.</p><p>But that woman though.. he feels like he's known her from another lifetime ago.</p><p>Vincent lays the cards down, and he goes over to the bathroom where he sees his reflection in the mirror. The green eyes, a young and unsuspecting face. He peers closer, and in his eyes, he thinks he catches a glimmer of<em> someone else</em>, masked and lurking..</p><p>The phone rings.</p><p>Vincent picks up the phone in the bedroom, him sitting upon the comfy bedsheets.</p><p>"Hello? I heard you wanted to talk with me?"</p><p>Right away, Vincent just <em>knows</em> it's that girl. "Lil?" he goes, and her name slips out his mouth naturally, like he's said it a dozen times. "I want to meet. I think.. oh, it's hard to explain. But I feel like I know you."</p><p>"Um, I'm sorry.." He hears her inhale. "Is this a joke? If you're not calling for business or anything, then—"</p><p>Vincent's heart sinks. Secretly he's hoping that she'll know him too, but it's getting awkward enough as is. "No, it's fine.. I think I must have the wrong number."</p><p>"Wait. Vincent.. Vincent Law. I feel like you're familiar. But you're that poker champion, so I guess I must have seen a few of your matches. What do you really want with someone like me?"</p><p>"To meet. Just over some coffee and pie?"</p><p>"Hmm. Wait, I'm getting another call from my agent – do you mind if I get back to you later?"</p><p>That was it. Vincent puts down the phone, a little dejected over the missed opportunity, but he has a card game to look forward to. Then he stumbles upon his bedroom counter, where he finds a day planner, and in it, he finds how he has 'exercise' planned for the next hour, at the Dayton gym.</p><p>That honestly sounds boring – Vincent doesn't think of himself as someone who'd energetically work his body out for the sake of it, but he decides to go anyway.</p><p>/</p><p>At the gym, where you can find various people working their abs, legs and the whatnot, Vincent is prepared to go ask the counter for a locker, but then, some businessmen (who have been waiting with a briefcase) tap him on the shoulder.</p><p>"You've kept us waiting for over half an hour, Vincenzo!" They cajole Vincent out of the gym and into a chevalier (it's a self-drawn carriage).</p><p>The lead businessman, in his white suit and tie, programs in a route around the town where they won't be disturbed, and as the chevalier strides down the road -</p><p>"So, this is one-fifth of the dough promised."</p><p>The briefcase's code is put in, and it snaps open, revealing rows of paper credits. Vincent pores over the cash, personally inspecting the wrapped bills.</p><p>"And as you've so willingly offered, make sure your ass loses by the fourth round. In your eyes, Vincenzo, we see how the years of poker have taken their toll. Inevitably, even a king must fall, so why not retire into grace? You have so much in your future to look forward to, beyond the card game.."</p><p>Vincent shuts the briefcase, and looks at the man in white – meanwhile, the other mafiosos beside him seem mildly unconcerned, besides glancing out the window. <em>How much money do I really have anyways? Imagine what I could do with this..</em></p><p>"Say it with me Vincenzo," the man in white goes. "On the fourth, your ass goes down."</p><p>"My ass goes down on the fourth."</p><p>"Perfecto. Briefcase code is 514, mind you, and don't let anyone catch you with this sucker out in the open. And by the way, Don Antonioni sends his warm regards!"</p><p>They drop him off by his apartment, and Vincent watches the chevalier go by, as he feels how <em>loaded</em> the briefcase is, carrying it, and he makes his way up, with a young kid eyeballing Vincent while playing with his train set.</p><p>When he enters his room, he finds himself</p><p>
  <em>(remember)</em>
</p><p>in a white chamber, awake on a cot. He finds the walls densely scrawled with notions about proxies, the <em>grand awakening, </em>and sketches of people he should know: Lil Mayer, Pino, Raul Creed – along with notes of what he can recall from being adrift in the wastelands.</p><p>Sunlight pours in through the door with iron bars, and he ventures outward, but not before his bare feet tustles on what is a manga of Ergo Proxy. He looks at the cover art, of the white mask on the shrouded face, feeling an uncanny recognition, before emerging into the halls where people – <em>patients </em>in gowns, looming. (He's wearing a gown too.)</p><p>He looks out the window, where he finds the courtyard, the trees shedding their browning leaves, a marble fountain, and other patients who walk in circles and have a game of chess. The leaves tustle under a gentle breeze.</p><p>"- patient has Type-3 megalomania, a desire to remake reality in her own image."</p><p>Vincent turns and sees a young doctor, writing notes on a sketchpad, dictating to his assistants. He sees the nametag: Daedalus Yumeno.</p><p>This Daedalus walks past ("Excuse-moi, Vincent.") and Vincent, bewildered, decides to investigate. He enters a mess hall area, where some of the other patients are frolicking, or sitting slack-jawed, as if hypnotically taken in by the TV.</p><p>Then it hits him – he's in a psych ward! But what is he doing in a place like this?</p><p><em>"Vincento!"</em> he hears, as if it's coming from beyond his senses. A girl's voice. He looks around, trying to find the person calling his name, but what he sees are the billboards, laced with rules on patient care and the schedules for taking patient groups out for a walk.</p><p>"Hey, Vincent!" he hears again, this time from a definite origin – it's an orderly, his arms hairy and bulging, his presence imposing upon Vincent's thin frame. "Did you forget your name? You're on for review. Dr. Mayer wishes to speak with you."</p><p>The orderly leads Vincent down a few halls, to the office door which says "Dr. Lillian Mayer" on it.</p><p>Inside, Vincent sees the chair spun around, and – it's a face he knows. Her jet-black hair, drawn back in a bun, and her familiar black eyeliner, as she rapidly types up something on her terminal. Her desk is strewn with patient records, with a nice portrait of her for posterity, posing seductively(?) in her white lab jacket.</p><p>"I think I'm safe enough with him as is," Lil goes, dismissing the orderly from her office.</p><p>"Lil?" Vincent says. Right now, her face is about the only source of familiarity and certainty he can find. "Don't you know me? Vincent?"</p><p>"Aahh.. yes, Vincent Law." Her tone is feisty. "Why wouldn't I know you? The past three months, you've strived hard to make progress.. and look at you now, our <em>model </em>patient!" She taps a finger upon her arm, proud.</p><p>Vincent is dismayed. In a bout of frustration, he slams his hands on the table. "Look, Lil! You – I know you from another place. You're a- an inspector! And I'm the <em>proxy</em> you're watching over! Ergo Proxy!"</p><p>Lil is gazing at him – like wha?</p><p>"Something isn't right here," Vincent goes. "I'm not supposed to be a patient, and you're not a doctor.."</p><p>"Vincent! Calm yourself at once!" Lil lays her hands on his, getting him to let go of the table. "Don't make me call the orderlies on you.. what's gotten into you, Vince? I thought you had all of <em>that stuff</em> out of your head by now. But it seems like you've gone into a re-lapse. It's troubling."</p><p>"Lil.. you really don't.. know me-"</p><p>Then something stands out to Vincent. Upon Lil's forehead, and she's tried makeup to cover it up, there's a bruise. And in some recess of Vincent's awareness, he recalls the sweet, sweet taste of warm brownies.. he was munching on them.. and <em>Lil was struggling with that skeleton- the loud sound of a gunshot, and then Lil getting knocked to the ground..</em></p><p>
  <em>The sound of a girl, screaming..</em>
</p><p>"Our relationship," Lil goes, "is strictly a doctor-to-patient professional basis. If you're hoping for anything romantic, I suppose I could set you up with another-"</p><p>"Lil, what's happened with your head?" He catches her off-guard, and he points to where her hidden bruise is.</p><p>And the look in her eyes changes, as Lil starts showing the first signs of uncertainty – like she's been sent off-script. Her hand, as if unconsciously, reaches for her bruise..</p><p>She shakes her head. "I hurt my head.. last night. I bumped into an open counter.."</p><p>"No – it was something else, you were struggling with-"</p><p>"<em>Vincent! </em>I've had enough!" Lil is losing her temper. "It seems obvious you've been getting too deep in your Ergo Proxy manga. What were you going to say? That I've had a violent run-in with one of your skeletal ladies? I'm ordering you into an observation room, under 15ccs of benzalcine – and your manga confiscated!"</p><p>Bursting into the office, two orderlies haul Vincent up, one of them prepping a syringe from a small vial.</p><p>"LIL! <strong>Don't do this!" </strong>Vincent struggles as the first orderly has him pinned from behind. "I know you, you're the closest person I've ever had in my life as a friend! PLEASE!" But all he's answered with is her stern glare, as he's hastily injected in the thigh, before being carried like some ragdoll over -</p><p>It's humiliating. <em><strong>Lil </strong></em>ordered this, and it's humiliating to be hauled like some feral animal, as the other patients observe the circus spectacle – "There you are, don't fret" – and with some inmates even cheering like they've got nothing more exciting to look forward for.</p><p>"It's Vincent!" "What's he in trouble for?" "The model patient..! And I thought Lil loved him!"</p><p>So Vincent slackens, unable to struggle against the ape-like strength withholding him, and the orderlies toss him into a padded cell, where he's tumbled to the floor, the door slamming shut as he feels the effects of the drug- benzalcine, it's called? - weaning through his nervous system.. blurring his awareness.. a book being unwritten from both sides.</p><p>The walls start to seem like white petals, enveloping him in a cocoon, and his mouth open, drooling – he sees the door frame, where through the latticed peep window, he catches a glimpse of Lil, peering at him with a sort of regret..</p><p>
  <em>Lil.. please, hear me..</em>
</p><p>..</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>2</strong>
</p><p>Lil re-applies her makeup, her face lit by the mirror. She puts delicate care towards the eyeliner, making sure her eyes stand out <em>juusst </em>right. The bruise on her forehead though, it hasn't gone away for the past three days. She still has enough cover-up, but it's getting worrisome. She'll probably stop by the clinic to have it checked out.</p><p>When she's ready, she puts on the fur coat around her body, and heads out in time for the photoshoot.</p><p>"Lil, your snake."</p><p>She finds the slithery thing so icky, as it slithers around her neck, a feeling like a slimy belt, but she retains her calm, as the lights are focused on her figure, and then the cameraman kneels down, snaps a couple reference photos and tells her to pose – like she's calm, and yet brimming on the inside is this wild, seductive animal.</p><p>Lil takes a breath, and glares at the camera.</p><p>The cover previews make her look like a toad; in one shot, she's wincing, and the other, the snake has dipped down her bra. The MUA (make-up artist) says that can be retouched.</p><p>Then, as she's dabbing off the makeup, the TV is blaring and it's promoting the poker semi-finals, featuring superstar Vincent Law going off against the new, upcoming hotshot Majin Buu.</p><p>"Vincent.." she mutters. She was on the phone with him, earlier this afternoon, and their conversation had triggered <em>something</em> in her, like a reminiscence of a time long past, an almost eerie feeling that she finds hard to shake off, after hanging up on him.</p><p>Lil gets her vanilla scent and lightly sprays over her face and hair, before putting on her overcoat to leave – she glances at the TV one more time. So where is this arena?</p><p>/</p><p>The streets are jam-packed – cars, chevaliers, people returning home from work and arriving for the arena, so Lil resorts to drive-through burgers for dinner. It's a long, looong lineup for parking, so she munches on a Krabby Patty as her car advances ever so slowly down the winding road. Yummy. By the time her hands are tired from drumming on the steering wheel, she ends up parking by the trees, and spending the rest of the journey walking past the suckers who are still on the roads.</p><p>She squeezes into the arena seats, past couples who are fervently making out or just sipping beer, and sits with one leg up on her knee, as the giant monitors (towering over the empty poker table) show how intense a poker game can get in promos. The sweating faces, eyes in landlock as they deduce each others' bluffs.</p><p>Behind the scenes.. Vincent is getting his hands oiled-up and massaged. He has seen his opponent, Majin Buu – that pink-ass bubblegumy dude, glaring at him with those squinty eyes and his pudgy figure.</p><p>"You're gonna pay for my liposuction!" Majin went. There's also other figures from different counties, but Majin is the guy who sticks out in his mind.</p><p>And then Vincent thinks of the briefcase full of credits. He has the money stowed in his apartment. Yes, in case he loses to that bubblegum, he's got something good to look forward for. But an urge within him wants to find out just how far he can carry himself on his card-dealing skills.</p><p>"Upcoming is Vincent Law! Give it up for your local hero – on a 36-match win streak!"</p><p>Vincent shudders, but he gets his act ready as he strides out in the open, a spotlight raining upon him, and he feels awkwardly self-conscious under the attention, the cheers, and he finds a seat by the green table.</p><p>"Majin Buu – the living calculator. His prediction skills are uncanny, he can call your bluff by the single bead of sweat down your brow!"</p><p>Majin emerges, striding down the red carpet, his gait cocky, and he waves his fingers around; his fans who are sitting upclose swooning under his charm.</p><p>But Lil has her attention upon Vincent, as she ignores every other player's introduction, and just watches him. He looks like he's still getting used to the table, as he gulps down a bottle of water and adjusts his seat. Not something you'll expect from a 36-winstreak player.</p><p>Now, the other players sit down, and the dealer – with his lovely accented Russian, he deals out their hands (two cards, face down), and declares that Le Chiffe, sitting at the 1 'o clock position, is the big blind.</p><p>Poker goes like this: there's betting in clockwise order, starting from the dealer, and the players (once they look at their cards) are willing to make bets, based off how their hand develops, what three cards are put out there to see, and what they <em>think</em> the other players are holding. Sometimes, it's good to bluff people out into folding (thus, forfeiting the bets placed in the pot), but other times, a good player will know <em>when</em> to call someone's bluff. However, if you end up with a losing hand, you lose what you bet.</p><p>The gist of it is either you psych out your opponents into thinking your hand is unbeatable during the betting phase, or actually beating people with the highest hand in play. And since they can't have nobody willing to put bets down (that would be boring), players are chosen at random to serve as <em>blinds</em> with forced bets, which the other players react to.</p><p>With the betting phase up, Vincent decides to call Le Chiffe, who's glancing blankly at the dealer. He has a jack and an ace – both hearts. Upon the table, there's a Queen of hearts, a ten of hearts and the last card folded down. He could get a royal flush..</p><p>Majin Buu smirks. He tosses almost all his chips into the pot. "Raise."</p><p>People begin to murmur anxiously.</p><p>"Raise," the dealer confirms. "$325,000 in the pot."</p><p>A few of the other players fold, tossing their cards face-down upon the table, while Vincent catches eye contact with Buu.</p><p>"Showdown, please."</p><p>Le Chiffe reveals he has two tens. Then the spotlight goes on Vincent, who plays his jack and ace upon the pile.</p><p>Majin Buu rubs his fingers, as he lays down his queen of diamonds and ten of spades.</p><p>Vincent reveals his hand, with as much calmness as opening the door to his room, and then the dealer reveals the last mystery card.</p><p>A queen of clubs – it's Majin Buu's full house. Thus, the bubblegum has laid claim to 55% of the table's wealth, with some people in the crowd fainting at the audacious play. The commentators are chanting wildly: "In the first round already, Majin Buu has laid waste to the players who've folded. Such an ingenious mind! Some would say he's like that rowdy bully at school, stomping upon the poorer kids, pulling their arms back until they scream uncle."</p><p>"That's right," Majin Buu goes, "cry yourselves home! I'm sure your mama will give you allowance for more-"</p><p>"Monsieur Buu, please," the dealer interrupts, "we ask that participants retain some respect for their fellow players.."</p><p>The second round has only four players. The fourth guy, Fassbinder, wearing his trademark trilby and sunglasses, looks like a scruffy slob – as the dealer is giving out new hands, Lil uses the break in the intensity to ask the dude sitting beside her about Vincent.</p><p>"Uhh, are you into him or something?" the guy says. "My, my, I think you <em>are</em>! Babe, why go after him when you've got a good package, right here?" (nudging at his crotch)</p><p>She glances at him, like <em>maybe that was a mistake </em><em>talking to you</em>, and then the guy says defensively, putting on charm, "OK, that was my bad. Vincent Law, you know, he's a cool guy. He's been doing poker for nine years, and-"</p><p>
  <em>Nine years.. I can't even remember what went on last week!</em>
</p><p>"I think he's going to win this round – honestly do. That Majin Buu.. looks like a total douche; would be a real shame if Vincent lost this game to that bloke. Sorry if I got you rustled, I'm just in that kind of mood. Name's Devin, by the way."</p><p>"Devin.. I'm Lil," she goes, and she shakes his hand, smiling, before an idea pops in her head. "Listen, I'm hoping to get Vincent down for an interview. Is there some way to meet him? You know, when the match is done? I'm a reporter.."</p><p>"You <em>do </em>seem like a nice reporter. But em," and he eyeballs her up and down, "aren't you supposed to have a, uhh, press pass?"</p><p>"I'm an amateur," she goes. And the crowd erupts, and Lil sees on the sports monitor that Vincent has called Majin Buu, and another showdown occurs, where it turns out Fassbinder has the upper hand.. by a pair of fours. It seems Vincent is down on his luck, in the bottom with Le Chiffe – if he doesn't turn the tables by the next round, he'll be disqualified.</p><p>"Everyone's gotta start somewhere," Devin goes. "Hey, I think if they call a break, you can catch Vincent by the barstand."</p><p>"Sure.."</p><p>Then Le Chiffe has his hand raised, and the dealer annouces a 20-minute intermission. Lil sees Vincent, who's standing up for a good stretch, before he seems to gaze out at the audience.. as if looking for someone. <em>For.. me? Is he hoping on a blue moon </em><em>that </em><em><strong>I'll </strong></em><em>show up? </em><em>I doubt it. I'm just a model, after all, but he did give me that phone call – </em><em>like he </em><em>was lost, in some kind of trouble.</em></p><p>She's been staring down at him from the nosebleed seats – so she looks at the sports monitor for an up-close view. When she catches his eyes, she realises just how green and radiant they are, like a gleaming forest. But they're the eyes of a man who isn't sure of the very ground he stands on.</p><p><em>He says he knows me.</em> <em>How come</em><em>? I've never even remembered meeting him! But I feel like.. if I could just get to talk with him..</em></p><p>Then she sees Vincent depart, and right away, she obeys her urge to stand up, brushing by Devin and so many others, spilling someone's soda by accident ("Sorry..!"). By the aisle, Lil almost slips upon a beer-stained section, and gets bumped hard by an overweight patron, sending her almost reeling onto an occupied seat. As Lil gets back up, she sees Vincent behind the glass, comatose in that room, and her hand rests upon the glass, a tear escaping her eye.</p><p>She blinks, and says sorry to the woman who was upon the seat. The woman though asks her, "Hey, is everything alright? You seemed like you were crying.."</p><p>"Yeah, I'm.." A suffocating emptiness is looming in her chest, and Lil struggles with what had passed beyond her awareness, just now. <em>"I'm sorry.."</em> Like those words have slipped from her unconscious nether.</p><p>The woman in red gets up; seeing the bruise upon Lil's forehead – "Did someone hit you?"</p><p>"No, I just tripped," Lil goes, suddenly self-conscious of her face. The lady isn't wholly convinced, but Lil gets by – the urge to check a mirror comes, and in the opulent lobby, where the marble stairs seem to wind and coil, she finds the women's room.</p><p>Her bruise seems to have died down, luckily, but it still looks like someone had whacked her hard.. that lady in red thought she was under some abusive boyfriend's thrall!</p><p>She gets out her cover-up kit from her pockets, and with a finger, she dabs upon her forehead..</p><p>The prospect of ever getting herself a boyfriend had seldom, if ever crossed her mind. Lil has dismissed those romantic notions, long ago, when her grandfather would read the stories of the princess, being swooned over by the prince, his heart as stoic as the castle walls which he'd hide within, and it was up to her to show him the wonders of life beyond daily routine – and human contact.</p><p>She still fondly remembers those days when she'd be read to, resting in bed, letting the words lull her to sleep. Her grandfather's voice, when he was still able to speak, was like silk to listen to.</p><p>But no, when it comes to dating, hell no. She's not into showing off her heart on a sleeve, let alone putting exorbitant levels of money to prove that she should be <em>that one</em>. It's a game for sheep.</p><p>She's able to disguise the bruise once more. Just to make sure, she inspects her face under the mirror's light – has she always looked <em>that</em> serious? The eyeliner and eyeshadow.. Lil thinks of herself as easy-going, able to relax. But even at work, people say how demanding and perfectionistic she gets, down to her very presence. She'd get upset if she felt like the photographer took too long to decide on a shot, or if her outfit felt itchy.</p><p>Then she spots <em>something; </em>like a faint afterimage, beyond the reflection of her and the stalls behind, moving. If she squints, she makes it out. It's <em>her</em>, in a white jacket, talking with another person she feels like she ought to know.</p><p>Lil reels with recognition. The sound of a stall door sends her back to reality, and to avoid making a scene, she leaves, on her way to the barstand.. finding Vincent there, who's in the midst of pondering a cantrip.</p><p>"Howdy, stranger," Lil goes, introducing herself.</p><p>He looks up, apparently not recognizing her. "Hi, you need something?"</p><p>"You seemed a little lost, that's all." She sits beside him, glancing as if he's supposed to react, but he doesn't, so she taps her fingers upon the table playfully, humming a ditty, and Vincent realises what's up.</p><p>"You're.. Lil Mayer?"</p><p>"I thought maybe you had gotten onto something, so I stopped by. I want to ask, what do you know – or remember about me?"</p><p>"I saw you in a hair commercial. You looked familiar."</p><p>"Do I? No one's ever told me I reminded them of someone – a few compliments, when I'm out on the street.."</p><p>"No, I <em>remember </em>you. Feels like my memories have been miffed, and like nothing is as it should be. Like this is someone else's life I'm living right now.. don't you feel the same?"</p><p>Lil takes a few moments to process what he's saying. "I have. I get this weird <em>deja vu </em>every once in a while, like I've done this thing before, driving my car, or asking my assistant to comb my hair. When I look at you Vincent.. it's like I've re-discovered the lavender field of my distant memories, to be honest. Am I in love with you? I don't know. But already, I find you comforting.. like a protector."</p><p>A shiver enters Vincent through his neck, and in the heat of the moment, he reaches out to touch her. He finds her fingers - her soft, delicate hand, and the idea comes to kiss her by the hand, like some romantic prince. She's even smiling, asking for it.</p><p>But then, Vincent winces (over a recollection) – shrugging her off. <strong>"</strong><strong>No!</strong>"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>A new look, of eyes in abject fear, develops in Vincent. "You.. poisoned me with drugs, torched my conscience and raped my soul.." It's as if he's speaking from his nightmares. "Don't hurt me again. Please, oh god.."</p><p>People are <em>staring </em>at them, and Lil thinks fast – she takes Vincent's glass of pinot, sips some, and then slaps him upon the cheek. A gesture meant to shock Vincent back to his senses. But the slap reverberates, though space and time..</p><p>..</p><p>Vincent awakens, in a cold sweat, his face hugging the mattress floor of his room. Sweat soaks through his gown, riding down uncomfortably to his crotch. His heart trembles from the residual anxiety, and yet he still retains the sense of that dream he's just.. half-forgotten.</p><p>The entire room is padded as one giant mattress, and in the dim area, the air is musty – filled with the sum of all past fears.</p><p>His mouth isn't gagged, so he says, "Hello? Can anyone hear me!? I want out of here!"</p><p>And what he's greeted with is the muffled cacophony of what seems like a thousand other patients, pleading, drowning out his own cries to the point where he has the urge to scream and bang his head from the madness. But there is something he remembers.. the tender touch of her hands, and her smiling face.</p><p>/</p><p>Dr. Mayer is boiling another pot of coffee. Daedalus awaits, poised by the table, the evening's sunlight streaking through the blinds - his silhouetted face in lines of rouge.</p><p>"You're not thinking of <em>mass patient experimentation</em>?" Lil asks, and Daedalus only grins, as he goes through the motions of pulling out a toro cigar, chopping the end off with a cutter, and lighting it up – puffing the rich tobacco into his lungs, before blowing it all out into wisps (without even a cough).</p><p>"Only on twelve," he says, grinning. "Your beloved Vincent Law too. Man, that sudden fit of his, I thought he was making serious progress under your care. But I think your methodology of kindness is ultimately ineffectual. It does not fix their root problem. But when I'm through, when their brain pathways are studied, and I follow through with what the simulations say – they won't be a problem, anymore."</p><p>Lil shakes her head. "It's.. wrong. Patients should get better from their volition, when we nudge them towards the right choice; you're leaving it up to a computer to decide what's right, what's not right for these folks!"</p><p>The coffee has been boiled, dripped through the filter, and Lil pours herself and Daedalus a cup. Already, the raw, invigorating scent has Lil longing to down the cup, so she could think – defend herself from Daedalus' brilliance.</p><p>"Don't you realise, Lil? We have allowed computers – let alone machines to help supplant our activities! A lot of things our primitive, medieval brains struggle with, computers do with precision, so we can devote our attention towards the bigger things in life. Why is it any different when it comes to mental illness prognosis? Some of these patients have been in here for years, and we've struggled with restoring them to normality. Now, you'll see real results!"</p><p>Lil sighs; when Daedalus gets this worked up, there is no convincing him otherwise. She just goes by his side, smelling the cigar, and taps him affectionately on the shoulder. "Oh, Daedalus – I hope you're not too wrong."</p><p>She pecks his cheek, as if to remind Daedalus of simple human affection, and then sips down the flavour of the Jamaican mountains.</p><p>Daedalus is blushing. It's a gesture he's always wanted. He gets up, and upon his tiptoes, he leans in and smooches Lil. Her lips are so fine. He leans into her, and lets his tongue slide into her mouth, and the kiss becomes something bordering on gross, as by the end, a tendril of drool still lingers between their mouths.</p><p>Disbelief lingers in the air, as Daedalus eyeballs Lil, watching her face for anything that resembles rejection, or regret. The way she glances at him, yearning for more, as she licks her lips-</p><p>(Vincent is staring at Lil, in shock after her slap.)</p><p>"Oh my, Vincent!" Lil fiddles with her hair, which had been tuffed in their kiss. "I forgot about him! I gotta check on how he's doing."</p><p>"Your prized patient?" Daedalus scoffs. "He's not going to choke on his own tongue or anything, if that's what you're worried about."</p><p>"He's <em>my</em> patient-" Lil gets her act together as a doctor, and straightens her coat, as she makes her way to the halls. "And I gotta check. He must be so hungry right now."</p><p>Daedalus's gaze lingers upon her, even the empty space she has just occupied, as his thoughts think of all the perversions he could pull off in this reality, where he is allowed to reign as God. Right now, as he dwells upon the kiss he's shared with Lil, his mind is clouded by the extreme, indescribable melting of his spirit into her being. Kissing her here is like ascending a stairway to heaven, which, up to now, has remained forbidden from his urges.</p><p>/</p><p>The hallway grows dim, approaching the observation area. Lil has told off the orderlies – wanting to meet with Vincent one-on-one. When she passes by the guard who buzzes her in, it is a warehouse of cubical cells, which stack up four high. The subjects are rowdy; they usually are. No one likes being locked up like some wild zoo animal.</p><p>But when Lil arrives, much of the usual suspects go wild – even catching eye contact with her is a boon, and they're howling, pounding their faces at the glass. Lil tries her best to ignore them, as her attention is over cell 15. Since he's on a first-floor cell, it doesn't involve towing him from the shelves. She sees him awake, huddled in a corner.</p><p>
  <em>Vincent. I'm sorry you got put in there. I regret it. But I really thought you've recovered.. let's see if you're calmer.</em>
</p><p>She enters in the passcode for the door, and the door unlatches – Vincent stirs, which is a good sign.</p><p>In the padded cell, Lil's lab coat drapes down to her knees.</p><p>".. Lil?" he goes, as the door shuts behind her, drowning out the chaos. He sees a welcome change in her demeanour – her face has softened, like the lingering image in his memory. But he stays cautious, holding his tongue.</p><p>"Seems like you could use a friend," Lil says, kneeling down, bringing a towel over to Vincent's head. "You must have been so scared, laying in here.."</p><p>"I'm sorry about my earlier outburst.." Vincent lays up, so he's sitting. The towel is moist, warm – comforting. Lil is patting him all over with it, even underneath his gown. As she does so, her expression is gentle. It's enough for Vincent to forget, if momentarily, about being in hell.</p><p>"I was being too hard on you," Lil goes. "I was so worried when I saw you were acting up, like how you were when you <em>first</em> arrived. You were so dazed, so lost about proxies heralding the world's re-awakening; it wasn't until I arrived as your doctor that you came this far, under my care. But you're on your way home.. so close.."</p><p>"Let me get better."</p><p>"That's why you're going out for dinner," she says. "With me." She offers him a hand up, and he takes it.</p><p>/</p><p>At the same time, Daedalus watches them. The cells are equipped with brain-wave monitoring activity, and the system is alerting him of abnormal spikes in Vincent's amygdala, and his surfacing memory. Argounova has never ensnared another proxy in her web – is it possible that Vincent's alter-ego, <em>Ergo Proxy</em>, has gotten in the way of the ego reality overwrite? Lil, on the other hand, seems fine; but her close affinity for Vincent, even here, has jealousy simmering beneath Daedalus' cool, calculating facade.</p><p>It's his personal lab, dark, monitor-lit, where even the likes of Lil cannot touch. His fingers are on the verge of ripping off the keys of his keyboard, over the sight of Vincent and Lil, departing. And Argounova appears, behind where he's sitting.</p><p>"Was it how you've expected it?" Argounova asks. "To be allowed to be this close with her? I'd have thought you'd be more satisfied."</p><p>"I am." Daedalus then slams his hands on his desk, sending his keyboard rattling. "I bloody am – just studying Vincent's psychology is fine enough for me!" He relents on his anger. "To be so close with her, the one etched in my heart, where I could feel her everywhere I think, and to be denied to this proxy, this.. <em>thing, </em>this demi-devil<em>. </em>Oh, the pity of it, Argounova, the pity of it!<em>"</em></p><p>He looks at Argounova – here, not a skeletal figure, but a mistress, her hair curling down her robes, as understanding as she can be. Who would choose to remain ugly in their artificial world?</p><p>"I <em>made</em> her," Daedalus goes. "It's the proverbial question. Donov sired me for his grand-daughter.. why did I make her far more beautiful, than she has to be? In all His power of creation, God made woman to love Him, above all. Why not Lil?"</p><p>"Because you are not God," Argounova says, with all the banality of saying the sky is white. "You are just a man, who cannot offer her the choice of her own heart. But you can relish that it was through your hands, that she has come to be. Do not be so jealous-"</p><p>And she rests a hand on his shoulder. "-Daedalus." She grins. "You will get your chance with your enamoured beauty. Time will bring you only closer."</p><p>Daedalus watches the video feed of Lil, filling out the forms by the security desk to bring a committed patient out, as Vincent stands by her, hapless. "I trust you," he says, and then he disconnects from the reality of Zaporizhzhia.</p><p>He awakens, sitting in his lab chair, as if he had merely been dozing off from his work, investigating the cogito virus. He takes off the strap from his neck, which looks like an ordinary band-aid, and places it neatly upon his desk, as he stretches his arms, yawning.</p><p>"Zero disruptions," Daedalus notes, as he observes his autoreivs conducting tests on the bodies of infected drones. "Perfect."</p><p>It is like awakening from a vivid dream, except you retain your memories of it normally. The patch lets you tap into the neural network that reigns over everyone, as Argounova sees fit, as an elevated user. Since it isn't any stretch to look for external sources for the cogito virus, Daedalus has stumbled upon one dome out of total accident – Zaporizhzhia. Where <em>everyone</em> lays dormant, generating a combined surge of theta radiation. The big sleep.</p><p>Upon speaking with Argounova, Daedalus had learned about why people dream in the first place -</p><p>"The reality of the inner world often overrides the objective, sensorial reality. Don't believe me? I know what lies in your heart, boy. You see her face.. like a raison d'etre you forged from listlessness. And whenever you see her, your heart rushes up, begging you to call her back. And yet, your fears lurch over the idea of her not returning your gaze – discovering your impure, unworthy soul, and casting you out of her thoughts forever."</p><p>(Daedalus huddled in a corner, his heart laid bare, no coat able to rescue him from his chills.)</p><p>"Alors, I sense your fabled Lil approaching.. with<em> Ergo Proxy.</em> Come and be a steward to my sheep, and you shall have a chance of realising your desire.."</p><p>It was slipping on the guise of Charon. Daedalus is in charge of managing the fears and nightmares of his patients, and before he knows it, he has Lil as his assistant doctor.</p><p>It was meant to be perfect. But even in the artificial reality, some truths cannot be smudged away – Lil's affections being one of them. Either Lil must come to see Daedalus as her special one.. or Vincent will be expunged.</p><p>Daedalus checks his schedule for the next week. A meeting with Raul Creed regarding his progress, but nothing major that would impede his dreaming.</p><p>/</p><p>Vincent finds the asylum to be menacing – a castle, repurposed to hold the insane at bay. The evening's daylight hurts his eyes. How long has he been kept indoors? He looks spiffy in his jeans and coat, and Lil shows him to her sleek automobile in the lot.</p><p>The drive is a stark journey. The wheat fields, stretching on for miles; the oil wells, with their cranes in a slow, graceful motion; and then dilapidated stores – the windows shattered, the aisles left in darkness and the shelves all but empty. Then, there are the homeless people, scavanging the dumpsters and using cans as fireplaces. Even though Lil's radio (playing classical music) tries to be calming, Vincent hears the horrid commotion outside – the screams of women, punctured by firecracker pops.</p><p>"Try to ignore it all," Lil says, noting Vincent's unnerved expression in the mirror. "You can't really do anything, except not drag yourself down by all the negativity."</p><p>Egg yolks splashs on the rear window, as rowdy hooligans jeer on, and Lil swerves the car around the corner.</p><p>..</p><p>Vincent fumbles with the chopsticks on the table – Lil laughing along with his attempts.</p><p>"Isn't it far more relaxing," Lil goes, "now that we're outta that confining asylum? I was thinking, Vincent, you said that you knew me.. from another life, right?"</p><p>Vincent gazes upon her attentively.</p><p>"They say that our souls live across multiple lifetimes," Lil continues, "even after our bodies die. So I'd consider the possibility that you are right, in a sense – maybe we did know one another, from a time beyond what we know.."</p><p>The restaurant is immured in the lanterns' candlelight, in burning incense, and an aura of charged serenity. As if someone had tried to shelter a haven, away from the wretched chaos of the streets.</p><p>"You know," Lil goes, "if you weren't a patient here, I would totally date you. Really; you have the sweetest face, and what must be a gentle spirit underneath."</p><p>The food and tea arrives. Some shrimp dumplings, and the steamy duck soup.</p><p>"I wish you'd believe me," Vincent says. "Don't you sense there is something.. <em>not right</em> with how things are?"</p><p>Lil has been pouring red vinegar into the bowl. She ponders what Vincent is getting at – usually, most insane patients take it for granted that something isn't right with reality. On the rare occasions, the "insane" has a valid point. It's not a blockbuster movie she's dealing with though.</p><p>"I don't remember the last five years here," Lil goes. "I only remember the last few days. I remember being hit upon the head.. I swung the cabinet door open, and it banged me on the head. Hurt like hell."</p><p>"I just recall waking up today," Vincent says. "Lil, our memories.."</p><p>Then he looks at the shrimp dumplings, resting on a plate in front of him. It smells so delectable. He gets his fork and reaches for one-</p><p>Vincent places his entire stack of chips on the poker table. He's willing to go all-or-nothing against Majin Buu – looking at his pink face, his triple chin bloating away his acne-covered neck, Vincent thinks of fresh food.</p><p>"Raise."</p><p>The audience gasps. Is Vincent really going to suffer his first loss? It's a desperate move, when he's down to his last 800k credits.</p><p>The dealer: "Showdown, please."</p><p>Majin Buu reveals his hand, and it's a two-pair. Two aces, two sevens and a five.</p><p>And Vincent, he hesitates, as he glances up somewhere over the table. Looking for the one who has left his cheeks stinging. Then he looks down at his hand, turning over his cards.</p><p>"Three of a kind," the dealer says. "Vincent wins, three aces."</p><p>"WHAAATT!?" Majin Buu goes. "You're fucking joking me! Really?!" He smashes the table with his hands, before storming off, the videotron showing Buu's humiliation under the spotlight.</p><p>Vincent looks at the table – it seems so distant to him. Like it's a copy of a copy, as he gets up, under the pent-up cheering of the audience, and walks on over to his locker room, where he meets the mafia men.</p><p>"Vincenzo.." The voice of someone whose long patience is on the verge of expiring. "Eet's an honour to meet the great Vincenzo in person."</p><p>Stepping from the shadows, is Antonioni, the don, his face wizened. "You had agreed to an offer you don't refuse.. I supposed as much your pride would not settle for a mere bribe, over the thrill of winning the game one last time. So I make you a choice.. work under us, be the guy who everyone looks up to in our casinos."</p><p>"What's the other option?" Vincent asks.</p><p>Antonioni gestures at his men, who only give leers at Vincent. "You know what you decide."</p><p>They had been waiting for him the entire time, and Vincent's heart is pounding. Something in him finds it very wrong to just be used for monetary profit.. but is it worth his life over the principle?</p><p>..</p><p>Lil has charmed her way past security, saying she's got a personal delivery for Vincent. She had watched the entire tournament finale, her jaw dropping upon Vincent's show of bravado. It was amazing. At the same time, that convo with Vincent, where he briefly ended up in a blubbery mess, before sternly looking at her after that slap, like he had reverted into another person – it had left her reeling with an unsolvable mystery.</p><p>So she's here, prowling the halls in search of the man, when she overhears some Sicilian guys cajoling him.</p><p>She takes a peek into the locker room, where she hears the water drips, and finds Vincent – as if on the verge of being taken hostage by these burly men.</p><p>She steps into the scene's foray..</p><p>"Am I interrupting something?" she asks, almost innocently, garnering their attention.</p><p>"We are in the midst of an important business, lady," one of the men say. "Go piss off."</p><p>Lil shakes her head. "No.. that's not how this goes. You don't tell me to 'piss off.'" She looks at Vincent, who is relieved over a saviour who deflects away the unbearable tension.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>3</strong>
</p><p>Vincent finds the revolver's barrel right in his nose. The gangster is poised to pull the trigger.. except his attention is rapt on the newcomer girl – this dashing woman who has stumbled across the crime scene.</p><p>Now, Lil. Although she's just supposedly a model, an inner confidence is arising within her over beating those cockroaches over their silly heads. And seeing poor Vincent, huddled down by the lockers, it is <em>setting</em> her off.</p><p>"Lady, this guy's <em>nothin'</em> to ya! It's your last chance, missy, cause we won't hesitate to put a <strong>bullet</strong> into your thick skull, if you don't turn around and <em>fuck </em>right off-"</p><p>Lil grabs the first nearest guy, and with surprising strength, she breaks his arm in one swift stroke. The boss leader, Antonioni, just gazes on in shock as he sees this woman striking his men out in curt movements, and a thought occurs to him; he could <em>use</em> her for one of his own. But what could he offer her, if she does not worry for her well-being like so many others do?</p><p>The guy holding the revolver in Vincent's face is shaken, and as he falls, the revolver slips out of his hand – onto the tiled floors.</p><p>By then, Lil is panting, shaken by the effort, her hair frizzled up from the fighting. She just has this wizened man to stare down..</p><p>"I'm Don Antonioni," he goes, smiling. "And it's an honour to meet you, miss.."</p><p>"You're not getting my name." Lil pulls up Vincent, who is in even more shock than before as he's seen the brutality of his saviour. "Let's go." It's almost as if she's hauling him out of this mess, and when Antonioni is left to survey how his men are left groaning in pieces, he mutters a cantrip to himself, before calling in an ambulance.</p><p>/</p><p>"You didn't have to go all this way for me.." Vincent is huddled in the passenger seat, while Lil drives the car, almost swerving into a light fixture as she's getting the hell away from the stadium.</p><p>"Yes, you're right, I don't." Lil plucks the radio on, with some house music to distract from all the worries. "But you're the source of my questions. Why does it feel like I've <em>always </em>known you?"</p><p>"Wait, what about my winnings? I've just won the whole pot.."</p><p>"It's your life, Vincent. You're a world-class champ, there'll always be more to win down the line."</p><p>The car drifts into the calm suburbs, populated with tight-knit driveways, towne homes, with a healthy dose of cedar trees, and after a few turns, Lil is by her front-door porch, where she idles the car before it shuts off. Then she lets out a huge sigh of relief, resting her head over the wheel as if signifying the end to a long and weird night. As Vincent gets out, he lets the wave of cricket chirps wash over his ears, feeling the crispness of freshly-cut grass. So this was what being in a rich neighbourhood was like – being surrounded by peaceful scenes, like a luxurious blanket that's pulled all around, insulating you from the dust and worn carpet.</p><p>Inside Lil's home, there's chandeliers atop giant halls. She takes Vincent's coat off and hangs it in the laundro-cabinet, where it'll get dry-cleaned by the next day. And while she heads into the kitchen to make nighttime tea, Vincent eyeballs the tall posters of Lil, all in various and seductive poses.</p><p>He thought she was fairly nice before, but oh boy – she was <em>stunning</em>. It was almost enough to make him salivate, when Lil comes by, with a teacup for him.</p><p>"How long have you been doing this?" he asks.</p><p>"Modelling?" Lil tries to recall. "About five years." She isn't flustered when it comes to the more revealing photos of her, as though it's perfectly normal, while Vincent struggles with his obvious blushes. His cup quivers as he tries the tea out, and the elixir is sweet in his mouth (like the embodiment of a kiss) – a surge of bodily warmth arises in him.</p><p>"It's good.."</p><p>But it's also too much for Vincent to take, so he finds the nearest seat. A red velvet couch. Lil, her eyes lulling on her house guest, sips her tea, before noticing some of the wounds left on his face. The men have beaten him, what sore losers!</p><p>He is resting on her couch like a bruised dog, that she's taken in of her own volition, and now, she has an urge to tend to his wounds.</p><p>"I've got to get you some stitches," Lil goes. "Won't you follow me upstairs?"</p><p>"But I'm fine—"</p><p>"It'll get infected. And besides.. I can't stand seeing you like that." There's a faint trace of a smile, which Vincent doesn't quite catch.</p><p>/</p><p>Lil is daintily wiping the grime and sweat off his cheeks, as she has Vincent sitting over the toilet seat. She's done makeup over her own face, and has allowed the MUAs to touch her up so many times, but it is the first in a long while that she is touching the face of a young man.</p><p>"Hold still, you baby," she whispers, as Vincent grimaces – the hydrogen peroxide seems to fizzle over his bruises, in those places where they've pounded him into dirt. He tries holding his breath, but ends up faint-headed over the effort.</p><p>Lil throws the gauze away, and simply puts band-aids over the bloodied areas. Her calm breathing is a balm, with Vincent looking up at her. If he took her right here and then in a kiss, his mouth would end up falling forever into her lushness, miles deep. She pretends not to notice – only slides his shirt off, and goes to the bathtub where she plugs the hole and turns the tap on.</p><p>
  <em>Is she really wanting me to..? </em>
</p><p>Vincent rises from the toilet, about to step into the bath-</p><p>"What, do you always take baths with your trousers on?"</p><p>He hesitantly waits, caught under her gaze while he feels his erection pressing undeniably against his pants.</p><p>"I won't look," Lil goes, as he unbuckles his pants. "I promise." She hears his clothes hit the floor, as he wades into the steaming tub, now bubbling and frothy. He lets his whole body soak into the water, and it is scathing at first – but only at first, for soon, all of his daily worries just melt away while he grows easily accustomed to the bath.</p><p>Lil hands him the shampoo bottle, and sets some music on the speakers, before she heads out into her own bedroom – finishing her tea, but also giving herself a breather to think what would happen in the next day, let alone the next five minutes. Already, she's treated Vincent far better than most of the people in her life, and.. it's just happening so fast, how close she's getting with him!</p><p>On the other side.. Vincent is rubbing the vanilla shampoo out of his eyes – "Agghh!" as it stings so much, even though it smells just like <em>her</em>. A childish enjoyment emerges just from playing around with the dainty bubbles, while the music is like a cherry on top.</p><p>/</p><p>In reality, still onboard the train, Pino peeks her little head out of the cupboard. Frightened as she may be, she's seen the spindly woman steal away Vince and Lil. It's up to her to rescue them! So Pino waddles out into the empty caboose, where she accidently rattles a broken teapot by her feet, and ends up leaving some stained footprints from the puddles she's stepped in.</p><p>The train has stopped, and when she steps out, it is a city that's caught in perpetual stillness, with so many of these buildings lit only under pale moonlight.</p><p>Pino is getting the sprinkles in her tummy. What if Vince and Lil are embodied under these numerous cobwebs, spread before her feet in the streets so endless? She stumbles over a mound, and looking back, it's an atrophied body, still caressed by the little spiderlings.</p><p>Pino is glad not to end up like that.</p><p>"Vince! Lil!" she calls out. The stuffed bodies go on forever, and Pino's waddling is more frantic, as she tries uncovering the cobwebs, looking for the familiar faces of her friends – but they are all strangers, in varying stages of sloth.</p><p>And there's dust.. dust in the air.</p><p>"Vince.. hello? Please wake up!"</p><p>She hears something around the corner. It sounds like rattling, and when she creeps around, it looks like a man in the shadows – naked, emancipated, and just struggling to walk.</p><p>"Hello?" Pino approaches him. "Can you help me? Find my friends?"</p><p>He is wobbling, and Pino gets unnerved; she steps back.</p><p>"W-who?" he rasps out. "Where is my family? My son – he still <em>needs </em>me!" It is as close to screaming that a voice can get, after thirty years of cigarettes. Then he sputters out a violent cough, hacking the air from the deepest recesses of his lungs.</p><p>"I.. don't know you!"</p><p>Pino squirms, and she runs, as fast as her little legs can carry her. She runs, and it seems like there are faces from the walls, watching, and the fields of webs are so endless that she's lost track of where she's come from – as all her footsteps are just broken webs which are hard to distinguish, like wading through silky haystacks.</p><p>Eventually, she feels tired, and she curls down into a little ball, huddling herself like when her caretakers would get into a very bad argument.</p><p>"Vince.. Lil.. I'm very scared.. help me, please.."</p><p>Then she hears a distant rumble. She even feels it to her bones, and when Pino gets up, she spots atop the city's former skyscrapers, an intricate, giant web, spun by giant spiders. No – not that..</p><p>The shadows around Pino grow more definite, and the rumbling isn't stopping – she looks up at the web, and something is arising behind it. It's bright, white and round, like the domes in the wilderness, and Pino would call it the moon, like in those little stories she'd read.</p><p>The moon glimmers, casting all within under its mesmerizing light.</p><p>Pino gasps, as she finds that her hands and arms emit streaks of starlit brightness. As well, the entire web network's nature is revealed – as pulses of exchanged energy, resembling the meandering paths of several lightning bolts. In a way, it's beautiful, but Pino is distracted by her own glow, as she finds numerous fireflies in her vision, and it's not going away.</p><p>When she runs, it's like a girl set alight in fire, and she ends up through a doorway – where inside, the fireflies stop.</p><p>/</p><p>In that moon, sits Proxy Argounova. Her head is entangled in a mesh of webs, like velvet curtains draping over her skull, as she sits atop her rightful throne – watching over her land of fears and desires. In one half of her awareness, she relishes the total joys and ecstasies of her inhabitants, and in the other half.. their pain and suffering. And especially now, it is truly fascinating for another Proxy to be under her spell, as a once-in-a-long-while chance to see the fears and joys of another like her.</p><p>But she feels an anomaly. Some of the neural connections have been tangled up by an unknown agent, as if someone has been stepping over her crops – and as a result, people are waking up, people are having cross-tangled memories, it's no good.</p><p>So, for the first time, Argounova brings the <em>Seer</em> in search over the grounds. In her vision, she sorts the broken webs – their times and locations - into a path. It seems logical to imagine that a person has been sneaking around. But.. how? She could sense the tinest fluctuations of human energy, for as much as the dome surrounds.</p><p>A sense of doubt arises in her. The order that she's spent so long developing, in bringing the whole city to stasis.. in seeing so many people lost to the <em>first trials</em>.. in being a voyeur to the endless lies she's enveloped them in..</p><p>No. She will not lose it all.</p><p>There's two likelihoods: (1) that Vincent, the Proxy of Death, has subconsciously taken control over the dream, and is spreading chaos every passing second. An unlikely one. For Argounova has dealt with another proxy, many years ago, even to the point of making him believe himself as an ordinary man, flesh and blood and weakness, and seducing him in the world as – her lover. Her Equal.</p><p>And her love for him was so strong, so full of yearning, that it's ended up sapping the poor lad of his entire virility, god bless his soul. (Even now, she misses him.)</p><p>The second possibility is that an agent she did not detect has snuck onboard, when she took in Vincent and Lil. There is such a thing called AutoReivs, who have some semblance of autonomy, but who are not humans. Argounova has never believed in such artificality (despite the hypocrisy of her make-believe worlds); why allow in something that she cannot manage? Through the history of her dome, AutoReivs were denied, and it's one fact that she's proud of to this day.</p><p>She's willing to lean into the second possibility – and what a nightmare for her, as none of her senses would aid her.. she'd have to search for the damned thing in person.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="entry-content">
  <p>
    <strong>4</strong>
  </p>
  <p>At night.. Vincent is awoken by low, reverberating thumps - as if someone is beating a drum in the deep.</p>
  <p>He faintly recalls the coziness of resting in <em>her </em>bedsheets, wrapped in by her arms in a reassuring embrace, but perhaps that's just his mind thinking funny. For he's alone again in the ward – not in that dank padded cell, but with his familiar collectibles. Lil has been kind enough to put in a word for him.</p>
  <p>His head aches with a mixture of drowsiness. It's what happens when you're awoken abruptly from dreaming. What he needs is a glass of water..</p>
  <p>/</p>
  <p>The walls almost seem to <em>throb </em>in time to the invisible beat, as Vincent navigates the ward halls, feeling the dread of everyone's absence. Despite the sterile chill, there's an uncomfortable layer of humidity which pervades the wards, leaving his gown clinging to his goosebump-riddled skin.</p>
  <p>The kitchen is by the communal foyer. Usually a hotspot for the gossipers and housewife-types, the stovetop is left with residue of dried-up porridge, and the faintest scent of almonds (for they love messing around with the dough and other spare ingredients).</p>
  <p>Vincent grabs a cup from the lower cabinet, and tries getting water from the tap.</p>
  <p>The faucet lurches, as if struggling to belch up its payload from deep plumbing, and finally the water jets out – it is muddy rusty. Vincent tosses the water out – in disgust over its gross, metallic stench.</p>
  <p>He tries opening the fridge, in hopes of finding some milk or juice instead, and much of the sandwiches inside are spoilt, to the point where he decides against it.</p>
  <p>
    <em>What do I have to do to get something nice to drink?</em>
  </p>
  <p>A door shuts closed, and Vincent sees the nightly nurse, making her rounds as she patrols the halls – her nightstick scratching the walls. He sees her come, and he crouches down under a table, instinctively knowing that a beating would follow if she catches him out..</p>
  <p>As he hears her footsteps fade, an idea occurs to him; whether or not the staff are intentionally negligant about their patients' hygiene, there's no way they'd stoop to drinking the same disgusting water! And with Vincent's parched gut driving his movements in the night, he peeks out, and stalks the nurse out into the staff area.</p>
  <p>Vincent catches the door right when it's about to slam shut, and surprisingly enough, the nurse doesn't notice. It's just that the halls are blindingly bright, and he stumbles back into the first office whose door is ajar.</p>
  <p>Inside.. the fish tank softly bubbles, and casts the office in blue and violet hues.</p>
  <p>He feels his chest begin to lurch from the thirst – as though his heart would threaten to implode on him, the blood sapping away from his head as his ears ring, and every other noise is just a blur. Vincent hastily pops off the tank top, and he plunges his head into the waters.</p>
  <p>The water tastes off-kilter, but this doesn't stop him from almost lapping up the goldfish – Vincent spits the poor fish back out. It seems to flop uncannily on top of the water surface, as if carried afloat by a force unknown, then the fish sputters beneath, where it lays still, before its body dissolves in a fury of bloody mist.. enveloping the tank in a state of terminal sunset.</p>
  <p>Vincent is taken aback by the little horror. The other fish hurriedly swim away from the bloody epicenter, but all the same, they sputter as their gills inhale the foreign yet familiar blood of their own – and die.</p>
  <p>And because it is so dark in the office room, with only a slit of hallway lighting through the door to contrast with the fish tank, Vincent does not make out his own true reflection upon the glass, the masked arbiter of death.</p>
  <p>At least though, his thirst is sated, and the buzzing of his body goes away.. and then the door creaks open.</p>
  <p>/</p>
  <p>Vincent awakens, huddled on the couch with blankets over his body. He wonders why it feels so cushiony, until he remembers that he's been taken to the home of his benefactor, Lil. He breathes in the crisp, conditioned air, which is a far cry from his danky apartment. The living room is so dim, still at night, that he only makes out the silhouettes of palm trees from the grandiose windows.</p>
  <p>Oh yes – she won't let him sleep in her bed; Lil was very touchy about it.</p>
  <p>Then he realises that the taste of muddled water in his mouth won't go away. On the tabletop is some jasmine tea, leftover from Lil, and though it's gone cold, he indulges in its sweetness and finds a relief from tasting that half-remembered dream. He still feels tired, and yet so restless.</p>
  <p>Then he hears something, coming from upstairs. It sounds like Lil – moaning.</p>
  <p>Vincent tip-toes over to her room. He passes by the aquarium embedded in the wall, where the goldfish swim under an eternal twilight, before he pulls the bedroom door open to find her writhing in bed. Her bedsheets slip off. As her body contorts, sweat billowing out through her pajamas, her hands grip her bedsheets.</p>
  <p>"Lil?" He feels a cold sweat on his brow, like he's witnessing an inexplicably uncanny event. The moans and eventual screams which escape her mouth carry a <em>wild</em> and frenzied quality, and Vincent rushes to her side – he grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her awake. "Lil, wake up! Lil!"</p>
  <p>Her eyes jolt open - Lil's eyelids flutter with such a release of tension, and it takes a while for her to simply breathe, as she turns to Vincent who's there with her, wordless as she recovers from her orgasm.</p>
  <p>"You were shaking, Lil," he says.</p>
  <p>"Oh – ohh," she goes, as she brushes off Vincent and fetches her glass of wine off the stand. "I feel.. weird." Her breasts – particularly her nipples feel especially tender, so she goes up to a mirror and checks them. They look fine, but that <em>face</em> that had vanished just now from her awareness still haunts her, his hands relishing in coveting her body.</p>
  <p>"Did you have weird dreams too?" she hears Vincent say, and it gets her out of her moody reverie.</p>
  <p>He sits down with her on the bed, and catches her musky scent. He doesn't have the gall to tell her about it though, and then she leans into him, resting her head upon his shoulder, and a jolt of panicked adrenaline enters his heart. But she's able to forget about her nightmare all the same, here with Vincent.</p>
  <p>"I do, actually.."</p>
  <p>..</p>
  <p>A strange warmth envelops the two of them, as Lil finds comfort in feeling the steady rise and fall of Vincent's chest, his breathing. If she could take him to those lavender fields embedded deep within her soul, it'll be absolute bliss. But the best she can do is listen, as Vincent describes his dreams of being in an asylum, the goldfish he ate, and an alternate version of her who's been so cruel, yet so kind.</p>
  <p>Admittedly, her thoughts start to drift off – vividly remembering every little moment he's mentioned with her in it, down to seeing him as a poor, misunderstood thing.</p>
  <p>And then she recalls being hit in the face, by a spindly autoreiv, with a little girl (<em>Pino-?</em>) screaming and cowering down.</p>
  <p>"<strong>Pino!" </strong>Lil says, leaping up from the bed as if zapped by electric shock.</p>
  <p>Hearing Pino's name also has Vincent rummaging around in his mind, as if the name has tapped a corner that's all but forgotten.</p>
  <p>"Vincent, we were on a train," Lil goes, as her eyes rummage in thought. "We needed spare parts for the Rabbit.. but the woman attacked us."</p>
  <p>"I don't quite get it," Vincent goes.</p>
  <p>A car drives by outside, with headlights gleaming through the window, before fading away.</p>
  <p>"That feeling where we know each other, it isn't random." Lil starts pacing around the bedroom, flicking the lamp lights on so you could see her face – still a little pale, without makeup, and yet her eyes betray a fierce, hardened awareness. (The vulnerable girl in her is just a luxury she can seldom afford.) "Because we <em>do.</em> And Pino, she was with us!"</p>
  <p>Vincent imagines a girl, her hair wavering under her rabbit hood, smiling as she skips around his legs. <em>"Vince!"</em></p>
  <p>"Where is she?" he asks. "Where are we, anyways?"</p>
  <p>"I don't know. Only that whoever's behind this, they wouldn't want us remembering our original selves. Aughh, I feel like I'm trying to recall different songs, when I've only heard them for the first time.. anyways, our best bet is if we act like we don't know. Keep it hush between us, until I can get to the bottom of it all-"</p>
  <p>"Or let's run away." Vincent gives a serene smile. "Maybe the answers don't lie in this town, but beyond – where we haven't ventured before."</p>
  <p>The idea has Lil's heart thumping with excitement, and though she doesn't yet recall Vincent's real nature as a proxy, she trusts him.</p>
  <p>"Oki."</p>
  <p>Then they hear another car driving by, and the headlights menacingly stare through the window, as if probing at Vincent and Lil in the room.</p>
  <p>Lil's instincts kick in.</p>
  <p>"GET DOWN!"</p>
  <p>He hops to the floor before a fusilade of bullets shatters the wallpaper, the dresser, throwing fits of feathers from the bed into the air – holes just where he's been sitting. The gunfire crackle is deafening, and so is the silence left after in its wake.</p>
  <p>Vincent coughs from the lingering debris, and before he can recover his bearings, Lil hauls him into the halls, where the home invasion alarms blare the loudest and the floor is wet from the punctured aquarium. The uncomfortable footing leaves Vincent almost slipping, and then he feels something mushy under his feet - it turns out he's stepped</p>
  <p>over one of her goldfish..</p>
  <p>The front door gets blasted open, and men in trenchcoats pour in, with flashlights attached to their shotguns. Lil and Vincent, descending the stairs, quickly get caught under their spotlight – and they freeze, only expecting the worst (being blown away).</p>
  <p>But luckily, it doesn't happen.</p>
  <p>Instead, the old mob boss Antonioni comes striding in, taking off his hat to reveal his wizened head. He smiles at them.</p>
  <p>"Vincenzo..!" his wispy voice goes. "And your lady friend! I hope we did not interrupt anything-" He eyeballs them, regards the fact that they're still clothed, and then continues: "Ahh, yes. Do bring them down, <em>per favore.</em>"</p>
  <p>Lil struggles under the henchman's bear-tight hold on her arms, while Vincent goes down more placidly.</p>
  <p>"I must apologize for the mess-"</p>
  <p>"Mess?" She eyeballs them<em>. </em>"You tried to kill us!"</p>
  <p>"Believe me, my dear <em>Lillian</em>," Antonioni goes, "if I wanted you both dead, you'd have died in your sleep. We merely wanted your utmost attention – there's a matter of grave urgence to discuss. Take them into the car, and fast, before the rest of the neighbourhood awakens."</p>
  <p>/</p>
  <p>The Rolls-Royce Phantom II is like a limo, where there's room for middle seats which face sideways, while the henchmen occupy the rear and the front. Vincent's ears still ache from the earlier gunfire, but he's able to make out the distant sirens and all the dogs barking, as he's shoved head-first into the middle seat with Lil.</p>
  <p>As the car veers off, Vincent makes out Lil's house smouldering in the night, before his attention fixes on Antonioni at the back.</p>
  <p>"First things.. Vincenzo. I know you still worry about your debt to us; it will be forgiven. The money yielded from the card tournament is peanuts!"</p>
  <p>Vincent doesn't comprehend the sudden change of heart. "Peanuts – next to what?"</p>
  <p>"Next to – well, there lies the rub," Antonioni says, slowly inching them into his mindset; in his world, respect is garnered through favours people don't refuse. "Suppose you live in a house, with a nice family, and everyone is harmonious. Then, you have another family, who are left destitute out of misfortune, and are looking for someone's hand to help them up from their troubles. So you offer them that hand.</p>
  <p>"They move in with you, and you think it may be just a matter of days before they'll be on their merry way. But your generosity serves as a pretext, as they end up claiming rooms.. your food, your finances – until your family is an unwanted stranger in their own home. Every time you try to take back what is yours, it is one step forward and three steps back.</p>
  <p>"Now," Antonioni says, "we have the Luciano, Bonanno and Corleone families who thrive.. while we are reduced to taking scraps, petty gambling deals. Our men are losing faith in us, and some are starting to renounce their loyalty – but Lil, you feisty woman, your presence is a great boon for us-"</p>
  <p>"Shut your mouth, old man!" Lil goes. "I'll do nothing for you! You'll let me and Vincent go, and that's that!"</p>
  <p>Antonioni's mouth curls into a slight frown, as if he's expected this disappointment.</p>
  <p>"Yes, I think we will let Vincenzo go-"</p>
  <p>When the mob boss taps his window twice, the car hurdles to a stop, in the midst of a jazz city by the harbour. There, the burly henchmen in the car haul Vincent out into the streets, and Antonioni shuts the car door as Lil screams out Vincent's name.</p>
  <p>It is all so sudden, as their car veers into dense traffic, and Lil struggles against Antonioni's surprising show of strength within the passenger cockpit. He batters her head down against the leather seat, her face blushing red in a helpless fury under his arm, while her arms are awkwardly pinned under the entirety of his body.</p>
  <p>"Are you finished yet?" he goes, his calm voice betraying no exertion. "I would hate to talk to you about your upcoming ordeal, when you are like a wild animal whose leash I must regretfully pull."</p>
  <p>With the blood constricted in her neck, sending rhythmic pain that shoots her nerves, Lil ends up submitting to Antonioni, and a few tears escape her eyes.</p>
  <p>/</p>
  <p>The mob office is lit under a chiaroscuro incandescence, with a few <em>capodecinas</em> who are seated around the poker table – not covered in cards and playing chips, but with written diagrams of various families, a city map that's heavily annotated with their operations, and black &amp; white photos of a grizzled man, caught in a multitude of various poses.</p>
  <p>"Come," Antonioni beckons to Lil, who is still in her pajamas, in trepidation, as if she's breathing an unfolding nightmare. The other <em>capodecinas</em> have their gazes turned on her, and behind their eyes, she feels them probing her nakedly – as they're ascertaining her looks, her demeanour, and more generally, her ability to perform compared with her liability to them. Antonioni gestures to each of the officers in his regime. "This is Salvatore, this is Leduc.."</p>
  <p>They nod in her direction as each of them is introduced, yet it doesn't make her feel any better. Not with her Vincent held in their hands, with them doing god-knows-what out of her sight.</p>
  <p>Antonioni goes: "Bonanno is a man known for his fine tastes," with his spindly finger taking a stroll over the photos of the man. "With wine, food, the artworks hanging in his compound.. it also includes women too. He <em>indulges</em> himself in them, and he is very particular about who he lets near him. With you Lillian-"</p>
  <p>"How do you know my name, anyway?"</p>
  <p>The <em>capodecina </em>named Leduc taps on the table, and there, much to Lil's surprise, are photos of her – the most provocative images as photographed. "Nothing escapes our gaze when it comes to someone we're interested in."</p>
  <p>She feels an intense inner revulsion over letting the likes of these guys pore over her body.</p>
  <p>"You are a renowned supermodel," Antonioni goes. "Someone who he'll least suspect, let alone be able to resist your charms by the time he lays his eyes on you." With a telling gaze, Antonioni perks an eyebrow up, and it hits Lil what lays in store. "Once he likes you, first thing is that he likes to watch for a while.."</p>
  <p>"No, no, I'm not <em>doing </em>this.." Lil backs away, with a flood of chills emerging out her stomach.</p>
  <p>"And once sufficiently aroused-" The mob boss grabs a cane that's leaning against the wall, whacks it onto the poker table, and slides it ever so slowly off so that the cane makes this tense, curling noise. "You will let yourself melt all over him, caress him with a lover's embrace until he climaxes, and then kill him. I trust.. that you will follow through?"</p>
  <p>
    <em>Think of Vincent.. they'll kill him.. even though I can't do this, I must!</em>
  </p>
  <p>"Y-yes," Lil goes. "I'll do it."</p>
  <p>"Swear to us," Leduc says. "Please say it out once again, with sincerest feeling. Even the slightest hint of hesitation will lead Bonnano to doubt, and doubt is the last thing we can ever afford."</p>
  <p>And Lil has to suppress a gulp to utter out: "I <em>will</em> do it."</p>
  <p>Already, she feels the dread of her unwilling decision, and more than ever, she'd like to tear her soul out of her own body if it means defying her fate.</p>
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